


Bad Habits

by Lo Turner-Kane (doujinbag)



Category: Arctic Monkeys, The Last Shadow Puppets
Genre: Abuse, Alcoholism, Angst, Domestic Violence, M/M, Oneshot, sorry this is a huge shitfest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-28
Updated: 2016-01-28
Packaged: 2018-05-16 21:07:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5841025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doujinbag/pseuds/Lo%20Turner-Kane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alex would never leave Miles. He couldn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad Habits

**Author's Note:**

> Thats's a shitty summary sorry lmaaooaooaoooaoaoao
> 
> This is just depressing. Kinda Stockholm Syndrome-ish. Obvious trigger warnings for abuse and alcoholism.
> 
> Yeah.

"I'd rather have a bottle in front of me than a frontal lobotomy."

Alex glances up at Miles from his place on the ground, hands still scrubbing, knees digging into the floorboards. He's cleaned this same spot a hundred times over, but Miles isn't yet satisfied. Alex knows be won't be until the water in the bucket turns red.

"Acknowledge me," Miles orders, and Alex sits up on his knees.

"I'm sorry, M-Miles," Alex stammers. "What do you mean with your words?"

"Simply explaining something you've asked before."

"What would that be, s-sir?"

Miles pauses to take a drink from his beer bottle, then proceeds to make a mockery of Alex's voice as he says, _"'Why do you drink so much, Mi?'_ Ah... It's been quite some time since you asked that though, now hasn't it, love?"

"Y-yes, sir..." Alex agrees, resuming his cleaning.

Miles sets his beer down on the dining table with a loud clink, clearing his throat in the process. "Let me see how far you've come," he says, slowly stalking over to Alex's place on the floor. The wooden boards are so clean that they look somehow better than new. "Show me your hands," Miles orders. Alex drops the rag back into the bucket and holds his hands up for his husband to see, rubbed raw and bleeding in some places. The taller man nods, then says, "And your knees too, laa."

Alex makes a pained sound as he finally shifts out of his cramped position. Now baring his bruised, scraped knees to Miles, he wants nothing more than to finally rest.

Much to his relief, Miles lets out a pleased noise and extends his hand to help Alex to his feet. Once Alex is standing on shaky legs, Miles holds him to his chest and runs his fingers through his soft hair. Words of praise linger on his lips, mixing with the scent of beer and tobacco.

"You're so good, darling," Miles repeats again and again. Alex's stomach churns as he hears Miles begin to weep. "I'm sorry I do this to you, baby. It's the booze, I swear it is. I'm gonna stop drinking, baby. I'm gonna stop."

Alex's eyes well up with tears as Miles rocks him awkwardly in his arms. He feels Miles's fingertips run over the dark bluish-purple bruise on his jaw, then trickle over the clothed scar on his shoulderblade, which Alex once received from an "accident" involving Miles's pocket knife.

If he tries hard enough, he can remember when things were still good. Back when they were still newlyweds, young and carefree and untainted by the heavy hold Miles's love for booze would soon have on them. Before Miles began shagging other people in their bed, before he first raised his hand to strike Alex, before he ever turned to alcohol to cope with the grief of losing their only child.

But things are no longer good. They've been hell for the past four years. And Alex knows how weak he seems to an outsider. How pathetic he must appear to his old friends. How fragile, how utterly _broken_ he must look. And yet, he can't run. He could never turn away from Miles.

He wouldn't even leave if Miles threatened to murder him tonight.

The truth is, he _is_ broken. He _is_ weak. What was once a strong, smiling boy is now only a grayed shadow of a person. As toxic and sickly as he feels now with Miles holding him close, his heart still soars at the touch. He's heard Miles's apologies and lies about future recovery every single day for eons now. Some part of him still believes Miles could change.

Miles holds Alex tighter when he feels him shiver. With his peeling, drunken lips, he whispers, "I love you so much, baby. I love you."

For a second, Alex nearly believes him. It's a convincing delivery. Yet, as he falls asleep listening to Miles smashing mirrors in the basement, he knows the cycle still continues.

And he's never getting out.


End file.
